After patching up his wounds Lightfinger is persuaded to take the lead again, his unparalleled ability to move undetected recognised by all.
Once again, he begins to move along the walls of the room, stepping around ancient corpses of men and orc. As he brushes his fingertips against the stone walls, he notices a slight change in the coarseness of the grains in the bricks. On closer examination he finds a small protrusion between two of the slabs and with a bit of pressure it clicks, and a small doorway opens before him.
This leads the party into a small room which looks out over the entrance corridor, which Silas had peered through earlier. It carries through to a passageway which loops around the northern exterior wall of the fortress. Through a multitude of narrow arrow slits the party see the icy landscape surrounding this bastion and frequently they check the skies for sight of the fabled dragon they are hunting. They see nothing moving except flurries of snow and hear nothing but the howl of chill wind.
At the western end of the passage Lightfinger is baffled. "I swear this feels like it should continue but there is just a blank wall, Narvi your good with stone. What do you make of this?"
The grizzled dwarf steps past his companions to take a closer look. Some of the stonework appears less well jointed than the rest and jammed between two of the bricks, embedded in the mortar, is a small stone which to his expert eyes is out of place. "I recon if you push on that, this section of the wall should pivot out of the way. I hope there is something in there to smash."
The party quickly make their way through into another large room. This one obviously used to be a bunk house, but the previous occupants have smashed all the furniture, most used as firewood in the large fireplace. There are orcish runes scratched into the stonework of the walls. Upon the floor lie the decayed husks of several orc. Inspecting the remains, Narvi finds a large bag of old copper pieces and a small purse of silver coins as well as an ornate spyglass which is sadly in need of repair.
The room opens into a corridor to the south, the ceiling of which has collapsed, and snow gently settles onto the lumpy remains of the walls. "Best not to go that way we don't know how stable the structure is." Narvi points for Lightfinger to move off through the only other exit.
An open doorway leads to the east into a small landing. A spiral stone staircase leads upwards, there are two more doors to the south and to the east.
They continue through the eastern door. Inside the room a large table takes up most of the floor space, upon it are several tattered maps and a multitude of small figurines. Blare is instantly interested having seen figures like this in the past – used for mapping out battles by the commanding officers. He begins to stuff as many as he can into his pack.
The room also contains three decomposed corpses in heavy armour. The best-preserved sits slumped in a large wooden chair, an empty goblet at spilled at its feet. Lightfinger moves to examine the goblet hoping that it may be in a reasonable condition and perhaps worth some gold. The cup itself is of simple copper, though it is well crafted. The inside is rimed with a sticky substance which he recognises as some form of poison. "It looks like they took poison rather than yielding the castle or facing a fight. They were either seriously brave or absolute cowards. Not a good way to die."
The party all share a moment of silence before continuing to search the room. Once again Narvi finds a concealed doorway which leads to a narrow stone staircase which heads downwards into the depths of the fortress, next to the steps another hidden portal leads back to the large room they found earlier, where Lightfinger encountered the stirges.
"The dragon is most likely to be found on the roof, we could head up the spiral stairs or we could continue by heading down to see if there is a safe escape route if things go sour." Eluin advises. "Of course, in the basement of fortresses is where you find either the crypts or the dungeons – sometimes both. What should be our course boys?"
Blare steps forwards to peer down into the gloom, "Crypts and dungeons is where you find gold. Let's go down, we ain't found any gold for ages. 'bout time we did, I only joined up with you for the gold and you never have made good on your promise."
"That's not true Blare. We've been paid well for the work we have done. Ok, some places have been disappointing in the amount of gold, but you now carry a sword worthy of the greatest warriors in the world and we never want for anything. Word of our deeds is sung about by bards far and wide, think how many drinks you were bought last time we were in 'The Lamb' and all the maids who winked at you. Life is good now we are all together. Narvi, shall we go and smash some shit?" Lightfinger stalks into the shadows of the staircase, as Narvi claps Blare on the shoulder and they follow him downwards.
The party find, in the depths below, a small network of crypts. They examine the contents of each sarcophagus they find but there are no hidden riches to be found. In the largest chamber they do however find a hidden store, in which is a cash of sleds. Perfect for a fast escape down an icy slope. But where to find a safe exit onto the surrounding snow fields?
Lightfinger uses the last charge of his wand of secrets to try to detect if there are any hidden compartments or doorways that they may have missed. As he whispers the word of power he has learned, the small key shaped wooden stick begins to pulse with a soft blue light and his hand is drawn to point towards the southern wall of the room. Narvi assists in searching the stonework and with little difficulty they find a finger hold built into the stonework. With a hefty tug, a doorway swings open and Lightfinger swiftly steps through.
Only the quick reactions of Silas save his life as the door leads to a precipitous drop down the icy slopes of the mountain. As he is pulled back into the room his flailing feet kick free a stone from the edge of the drop and Narvi watches as it tumbles and slides way. He looks back at the sledges. "I think we found the escape route. It's time to go and kill a dragon."
At the top of the spiral stairs the company step out into a large room. On three sides the windows look out over the towering mountain. The floor is strewn with bits of the dead. Human and orc lay side by side. Other bones may be the remains of animals. Through the frost and ice it is hard to tell. It is obvious that the dragon must access this room from the remains of its prey scattered about. Amongst the debris Narvi finds a severed hand still holding a greataxe. The handle is of beautifully polished wood and the twin heads feature mountains in a storm, lightning depicted striking the peaks and shattering stone. In his hands the axe feels well balanced. He likes it very much. "Eluin, can you tell if this is magical? I'd like a magic axe. The dragon sword is nice and all that, but I do like a good axe."
"Sure Narvi, hand it over. This will take a short while. Why don't you all take a rest and work out some tactics. How do we intend to kill a dragon?"
Blare opens his pack and waves for everyone to gather in close. "Right, this is the dragon." He puts the straw doll on the floor. "These little men are us." He places six of the wooden soldiers he found earlier around the dragon. "If it moves at all we should all run at it and try to stab it like this..."
Ten minutes later they are all still moving the soldiers around. Narvi has piled up ice and bits of bone to represent the walls and rooms of the keep. The basic plan is to trap the dragon in the entrance hall of the building and attack it from all sides whilst confining it between the walls. Attacking through the murder holes and doorways with projectiles and spells where possible and using Blare and Narvi as bait to keep the dragon where they want it.
"I'm sorry Narvi it is just a beautiful and well-made axe. Nothing magical. Are you done playing with your toys boys?" Elluin nods at the doll and wooden soldiers which Blare is lovingly placing back into his pack. "Lightfinger, could you go and scout the roof top out and see if you can spot this dragon. Keep an eye to the skies as you go and be careful of ice. It could be slippy."
Without another word the rouge slips of through the shattered door to the roof. Elluin was right, a thick rime of ice covers everything. He gingerly steps around the top roof of the spiral staircase. The rooftop itself is a large flat expanse of icy stone. He can see small chimney stacks in the otherwise featureless surface. There is no cover. If they try to fight out here, they will be exposed and the floor is too treacherous. One more step and he will round he wall and be on the expanse of the rooftop. He pauses and listens. Only the howl of the wind. He looks to the skies. They are steely grey, clouds scudding quickly passed, a gentle and steady fall of snow, constantly moving, obscuring his sight from seeing far past the battlements.
Cautiously, he slowly peers around the corner.
In the centre of the roof lies the dragon. Its wings folded tightly at its sides. It looks to be about twice the size of a horse, in its body, with a long serpentine neck curling away from him. The tail is coiled about a chimney and ceaselessly shifts in the creature's slumber. The whole of its bulk is covered in crystalline, white scales, around the size of a man's hand, and bone like protrusions cover its spine. The creatures head and feet are curled up beyond the mass he can see before him.
Slowly, Lightfinger steps back to his friends and signals with his hands for them all to cautiously head back down the stairs.
One everyone is in the room below the one they were just in Lightfinger whispers, "Its sleeping on the roof. Like the townsfolk told us it is not a big dragon, like you hear of in bard's tales, but it still looks like it could fucking kill us with ease. I think the plan will work but if it gets in the open and flying around, we are going to be fucked. How are we going to wake it up?"
"I'll ring that bell by the door. Then I'll make it angry enough to chase me. Then I'll smash the shit out of it. Time for talking is done. You all know what to do so let's get to it." Narvi stomps off towards the doors of the keep by the bridge.
Blare steps over to a very nervous looking Rally, "You got your net?" Rally pulls it out of his pack with shaking hands. "Trust in us, we trust in you. C'mon it will be fine." Blare turns to follow Narvi pumping his arms, getting ready for the fight to come.
Elluin leads Lightfinger across the bridge to the gatehouse where they will act as ranged attack, coming at the beast from behind whilst Silas goes into the murder room, to the north of the passageway they intend to trap the dragon within.
Once everyone is in position, Narvi reaches up and grasps the chain below the bell. He glances up to the sky and then down to the ground below. If only Darlin were here with them now, he pats his pocket where he keeps the pamphlet and seed which Darlin gave him all those long months ago on the streets of Neverwinter. How life had changed since then.
Swiftly, he wildly waggles the chain and the bells toll echoes through the mountainside.
"Come and get me you shit. Your mothers a gecko and your fathers an amphibian!"
He stops ringing the bell and everyone freezes, watching, waiting.
Thwump.
Thwump, thwump, thwump.
The sounds of the dragon's wings beating the air.
They wait.
Thwump.
An ear-splitting cry rends the silence as the white dragon banks around the fortress wall, dropping swiftly towards where Narvi stands.
Blare tightens his grip on his sword as he backs up down the corridor whilst the dwarf stands alone, waving his hands in the air and casting insults at the top of his voice towards the creature flying towards him.
The dragon banks and heavily flaps its wings to hover over Narvi who has momentarily frozen in wonder at the sight.
"What's he doing? Move, move." Elluin thinks but her dwarven companion seems frozen in place. She does not hesitate to act. Tearing the chain from her neck and hurling it through the air towards the wyrm. The necklace arcs high and catches upon one of the creature's spiny protrusions. As Elluin begins to duck there is a massive concussive explosion as all the fireballs on the chain erupt at once. A wave of flame and heat engulfs the fortress end of the bridge and Narvi is thrown to the floor. Once again, his beard is heavily singed. Silas is thrown back from the window he was looking through as a sheet of flame slams through into the room he stands within.
"Ok, I know I said she could use fire when we weren't in confined spaces, but she is taking the piss now." Narvi thinks to himself as he clambers back to his feet, searching the air for the dragon.
Inside the keep, Rally hears the explosion and runs towards the entrance, net ready to cast.
Silas staggers to his feet and draws back his bow readying a shot through the exterior window.
Blare dashes back to help Narvi on the bridge.
Drawing on the power infused into him by the alter of lightning, Lightfinger steps out from the gatehouse onto the bridge, as the smoke clears he can see the dragon still hovering over the dwarf, rearing back to strike.
He releases what hold he has over the storm within, and a torrent of lightning erupts from his outstretched arms. It arcs and crackles through the frosty air slamming into the sky serpent, which folds its wings to drop away from sight below the bridge. The furious tempest of electricity continues to gush forth, striking the keep beyond. Once again Silas is struck by friendly fire and his body falls to convulse arrhythmically on the cold stone floor.
As Rally runs to assist his colleagues a green light twines around him like vines erupting from his soul, these twin energies shoot forth to slither in a healing caress over Silas and Narvi, restoring them as the worst of their wounds close over.
The dragon unfurls its leathery wings and banks hard in a loop, taking it under the bridge. It flaps its massive wings twice and springs higher into the air, twisting about to look down once again on the beleaguered dwarf. Its head snaps forwards as Narvi leaps to the side. Then its wickedly sharp talons smash the stone balustrade as it grasps to capture the nimble fighter.
The call of a warhorn blasts out as Blare charges forth, encouraging his companions to join this last stand. The plan has gone to shit. Now it is all or nothing in this frigid battle.
Blare's sword slashes deep into white scales. Streamers of red blood fly through the air.
The dragon roars and a stream of pure cold gushes from its throat, rolling over the fighters below.
Silas fires an arrow at his distant brethren, which slams into the top of its mouth cutting off the blast of cold consuming his companions.
Rally hurls his net, engulfing the dragons head and one wing.
As the creature faulters in the air, Narvi dives forward to thrust his sword into its throat. As he pulls his weapon back for another strike, dark blood gushes from the wound to stain the pristine snow a deep crimson. The beast crumples and falls from the sky onto the path below.
The impact of its body hitting the cold hard rock is felt by all.
The company gathers on the bridge to look down on their fallen foe. "That went well then." Elluin says looking like she has not a care in the world.
Narvi looks at her with an edge of hatred as he scratches at the new stubble of his red raw cheeks. Lightfinger puts an arm around him to deflect his anger and sings out. "She fires on the enemy and fireballs burn their beards..." Everyone laughs at this and the tension is broken. "Yeah, I might need to work on that one." He says as they make their way back into the gatehouse.
Once everyone has got their breath back, they all go down to look upon the dragon.
"Can I chop it's head off?" Blare asks.
It takes him a few strikes but later that day, with the sun high in the sky, Elluin and Silas head off back to Phandalin with three of the horses. Behind the head of the dragon is strapped between two of them. Silas is pleased to be reunited with Calaca and breaths deeply of the cool air. "It will be nice to get back in the warmth of the valleys. We will see you further down the trail. Catch us up soon."
The rest of the companions have decided to try the sledges out. Strangely, it is Rally who whoops the loudest and insists to the others that they try another run, then another...and another.
As the sun begins to set Narvi, who by this point is very out of breath and whose teeth are chattering almost ceaselessly in the cold, says, "That's enough for today. With the last horses pulling the sledges we should be able to catch the others by morning. It's time to go."
Blare takes a moment to go back to the decapitated corpse of their greatest foe. He pries off a fist full of scales. "I should be able to craft some armour out of these." He thinks to himself stuffing them into his pack along with the doll and the wooden soldiers.
The final image of this day, as the light begins to fade, is that of two battle hardened fighters riding horses. Pulling a pair sledges behind, Rally and Lightfinger cheering with childish laughter as they skid over the fresh snow with the backdrop of a high deserted fortress. The sun turning the sky slowly from oranges into deep pinks.